“Are you afraid you’ll wake up in the attic?”
“I’m serious, damn it.”
“Go to sleep, partner,” Catalina said. “I’ll wake you when we get to Fogg Lake.”
“You’ve still got that auto-injector?”
“Yes, but I won’t need it.”
“Keep it handy.”
“Okay.”
He gave up trying to fight the exhaustion. He bunched up his jacket, wedged it into the corner created by the door and the headrest of the seat, and closed his eyes.
He was out between one breath and the next.
He fell straight into the locked-up-in-the-attic dream.
“What did you put in the food this time?” he asks.
“Just a little something to ease the visions,” Uncle Victor says. “How long are you going to keep me locked up?”
“Until you have recovered,” Uncle Lucas says. “Eat the soup. You’ll feel better afterward.”
“I don’t want any more drugs. They might make me sleep, but the nightmares are worse than the hallucinations.”
“You need to sleep,” Uncle Lucas says. “Eat the soup. If you don’t you’re going to end up in Halcyon Manor.”
He picks up a spoon and starts to eat the sedative-laden soup …
“Wake up, Slater,” Catalina said. “We’re almost there. Just in time, too. It’s getting dark. Night comes early in these mountains. Another half hour and we wouldn’t have been able to make it into town.”
He opened his eyes, braced for four walls and a room full of nightmares. But all he saw were tendrils of fog creeping out of the heavy woods that bordered the narrow road.
A battered sign came up in the headlights of the SUV.
WELCOME TO FOGG LAKE. NOTHING TO SEE HERE.
CHAPTER 21
The sharp raps on the front door sounded just as Catalina was studying the limited selection of canned goods in the kitchen cupboard and trying to decide whether to heat up beans or chicken soup for breakfast.
“It’s Bev Atkins, Catalina, dear. Heard you arrived in town late last night. Figured you might need some basics for breakfast. I’ve got eggs and a fresh loaf of bread for you.”
Catalina closed the cupboard. She walked quickly out of the old kitchen and across the small, cozy living room. She opened the door and smiled at the cheerful middle-aged woman on the front step.
“Good morning, Ms. Atkins,” she said.
“It’s Bev, dear. You’re not a little girl anymore. No need to be so polite.” Bev held out a picnic hamper. “Here you go. Everything you need for breakfast. Enough for two people. I heard you had a friend with you.”
By now it was a good bet that everyone in Fogg Lake knew she had brought a friend with her. It would be interesting to see if the welcome baskets continued to arrive after word went out that the friend was an Arganbright and that he was from the Foundation.
Catalina took the basket. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate this. I didn’t think to do some grocery shopping before leaving Seattle. Mom keeps some canned goods on hand, but it would have been beans and chicken soup for breakfast if you hadn’t dropped by.”
“Euclid will have the general store open later this morning, so you’ll be able to stock up.” Bev peered past Catalina’s shoulder. “Is your friend up and about yet?”
Slater spoke before Catalina could say anything.
“I am up and hungry,” he said. He crossed the room and came to a halt just behind Catalina. “Slater Arganbright.” He glanced at the contents of the picnic hamper. “That looks great.”
Bev’s eyes widened. “Arganbright?”
“Yes, ma’am. One of Victor Arganbright’s nephews. I don’t think I caught your name.”
Catalina decided she was under no obligation to explain or defend Slater’s presence. He was an Arganbright. He could fend for himself. She gave him a bland smile.
“This is Beverly Atkins,” she said. “She lives just down the road.”
Slater ducked his head in polite acknowledgment of the introduction. “Ms. Atkins.”
“We don’t get a lot of visitors from the Foundation,” Bev said, her tone turning sharp. “Generally speaking, we don’t have the sort of problems that tend to attract the attention of that bunch in Las Vegas, thank goodness.”
“I know,” Slater said. “Nice, quiet little town you’ve got here. But sometimes stuff happens, even in places like Fogg Lake.”
Bev ignored him to focus on Catalina. “What brings you and your friend to Fogg Lake?”
There was no point in trying to conceal the reasons she and Slater were in town, Catalina thought. There were few, if any, secrets in the small, closely knit community.
“Something has happened to Olivia LeClair,” she said.
“What?” Bev looked appropriately shocked. “Is she ill? Hurt?”
“We have reason to believe that she’s been kidnapped,” Catalina said. “I’ve asked Slater to help me investigate.”
“This is horrible news,” Bev said. She darted a quick glance at Slater. “I suppose that does explain why you’re here.”
Slater slanted a veiled glance at Catalina. “Yes, ma’am.”
Bev turned back to Catalina. “Olivia doesn’t have any family left here in town. She’s not rich. Why on earth would someone kidnap her?”
Slater rested one hand on Catalina’s shoulder. “This looks like it goes back to that murder Olivia and Catalina witnessed in the caves.”
Bev stared at him. “But that makes no sense. There was no murder. Everyone agreed that the girls experienced some sort of hallucination. All that old energy in the caves, you know. People who spend a lot of time in there often see and experience strange things.”
“We are going to try to verify whether or not someone died in the cave fifteen years ago,” Slater said. “If we can come up with a lead, it may help us find Olivia.”
“This is just so awful,” Bev said, stricken. “We never have any crime here in Fogg Lake. Are you absolutely certain Olivia was kidnapped?”
“Yes,” Catalina said.
“Has there been a ransom demand?” Bev asked.
“No,” Slater said.
“Then how can you be sure?” Bev shot back.
“We’re sure,” Slater said. “Now, if you don’t mind, Catalina and I need to get to work. Time is critical in a kidnapping case.”
“Yes, I understand,” Bev said. “Will you be going into the caves?”
“That’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Catalina said.
Bev started to retreat back down the front steps. She paused, glancing from Catalina to Slater and back again.
“Then the two of you are not … a couple?” she asked.
It was clear she was trying to be diplomatic, but a blunt question was a blunt question.
“We are a couple,” Catalina said. She did not have to be psychic to know that Slater had gone very still. She smiled at Bev. “A couple of investigators working a case together.”
“A couple of investigators?” Bev nodded quickly. “I see. Well, then, I’d better let you two get to work.”